Firelight
by Ozfan
Summary: Anya and Giles have a little chat by the fire after he gets tackled in the episode The Killer In Me. This lil Ganya fic is for caerwyn, who requested it, and I was suddenly inspired, cause she rocks.
1. Default Chapter

**Firelight**

_For caerwyn, just cause._

"Giles?"

"Hmm?"

"What are you thinking right now?" Anya's voice was quiet, contemplative. A campfire could do that to even the most non-introspective ex-ex-ex-vengeance demon, he supposed. They sat side by side, almost touching, watching the heat of the campfire. Anya had insisted on staying at the retreat, having never, as she put it, "eaten a s'more." Giles was grateful for the adult company, and Anya was helpful with the teenage girls, better able to communicate with them than he seemed to. 

Giles took a sip of his tea. "I'm thinking about the back ache I'm going to have thanks to you ninnies tackling me back there." He glanced sidelong at her profile and watched her face grimace in embarrassment. Anya patted him on the knee, let her hand rest there for a second, and Giles suddenly grew very still. She must have felt him tense because she pulled her hand away, all too quickly. He wished he could have stopped it, put it back where it was, and… right. _Stop that chain of thought before it gets out of hand, you silly bugger_, he admonished himself.

"I'm really sorry about the whole tackling portion of the evening," she said. "But how were _we _to know? Should we have thrown a rock at you instead?"

"You couldn't tell it wasn't me? All the time I was there at the house? You actually don't remember watching me eat?"

Anya shook her head.

"Clean my glasses?"

Another shake.

"Hug anyone?"

Anya sighed and gave him a look. "Well, I mean, come on, Giles. You're not a hugger."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"There are some people who instigate. And some people who get instigated… upon. I mean, in terms of showing affection. It's not your fault. You're _British_," she explained sympathetically.

"That's completely… unfair," he said indignantly, although he suddenly wondered if perhaps she was right. Annoyed, he shifted on the log and stared moodily at the fire. "Besides, I'm twice as old as the lot of you. I hardly think it necessary, or appropriate, to go around embracing a bunch of chil… people."

"You think of us as children? Me, as a child?" Anya said, her voice sad. Giles looked over at her then, watched her graceful profile.

"No. Not you. Never you, Anya. But the others… I feel responsible for them."

Anya crossed her arms over her chest. "So, wait. You don't feel responsible for me? You don't care what happens to me?"

Giles sighed wearily and began to speak, but Anya let out a laugh.

"Just kidding, Rupert. Can I have a sip of tea?"

Giles gave her a mean look, but Anya just raised her eyebrows innocently. He handed her the thermos, then looked up at the stars.

"What's going to happen to all of us, I wonder?" she said after a long moment. 

"That's a good question," Giles sighed. _I'll protect you, he wanted to say. But didn't. It would sound chauvinistic and macho and proprietary, and he had no right to be any of those to her, this woman/child who sat next to him drawing circles with her toe in the sand._

Suddenly Anya shivered. Wordlessly, Giles took his jacket off and draped it around her shoulders. She looked over at him, surprised.

"Thank you," she said finally, almost a whisper. He watched the light from the fire play on her face. 

"You'll be all right, whatever happens," Giles said. 

"And you?" she said.

Giles grinned. "I survived a near-beheading. I'm not afraid."

"A disappearing spell saved you in the nick of time. That coven of witches sure looks after your ass, huh? You got a thing going with one of them?" Anya's voice was teasing, and Giles decided to play.

"_One_ of them? Please. There's not enough of me to go around." Said with a bad-ass flourish of a cockney accent, to boot. Anya's eyes widened with shock at the change in him before it dawned on her what he was doing. She let out another huge laugh, then collected herself.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't ole Ripper in the flesh. They warned me about you. Very pleased to meet you." Anya held out her hand and Giles took it. Instead of shaking it, however, he brought it up to his lips and slowly kissed her hand.

"Pleasure's all mine, love," he said, a low throaty murmur of words. He still had his hand in hers. 

Anya's mouth was open wide. "That is _excellent! You're giving me goosebumps! Do more!"_

Giles took off his glasses and laughed a little.

"I think that's quite enough," he said in his normal, pleasant, Giles voice. "I don't think you'd want to see what Ripper would do in this situation."

Anya frowned. "What 'situation'?" 

Giles looked around at the silent clearing, then up at the bright moon, and finally back to her. "Sitting here, alone, with a beautiful woman, in the middle of nowhere."

The fire crackled and Anya looked down at her hands. "You think I'm beautiful." She frowned, then looked at him in confusion. "You think I'm _beautiful_?"

He simply nodded. She just stared at him, moved in closer to get a better look. Or was it he who was moving in?

In a flash Giles was up, standing, brushing himself off.

"What's wrong?" she said.

"You should go to bed," he said, his voice a little rougher than he intended. He took a deep breath and looked away.

"I think I'm fine here," she finally replied softly, curling herself tighter into his jacket.

"Then _I _need to go," he said.

"No. You don't."

"Yes, I think I do." He walked away toward his tent, then stopped and turned. There she sat, on the log, her face serene, her eyes watching him steadily, almost hopefully.

"I'll be right over there… if you need me," he said, then turned and walked away, quickly, before he changed his mind.

* * *

_Stupid bugger.__ Stupid, stupid, old perverted bugger. _Giles tried to come up with more clever insults to call himself but was too restless. He turned again in his sleeping bag. It had been over an hour since he had left her, and still he knew the fire was kept alive. He could hear her, putting more logs on the fire to feed the flames. He refused to look through the zipper of his small tent, however. He simply refused. It would be wrong.

When he finally peaked through the bottom opening of the zipper about 10 seconds later, he could see her in the distance. On the log still, wearing his jacket, her arms around her legs as she studied the fire. He swallowed and looked away, resting his forehead on his sleeping bag. Surely if he just went back out there they could just sit. Nothing would happen. He quickly looked back out, just in time to see her being dragged away into the dark woods behind her.

_Anya_, he thought dully, before instinct took over and his weapons were in hand. He was out of his tent, running toward the shadow of the Bringers that had taken her. He was quiet when, flashlight in one had, knife in another, he threw the first knife, catching the first Bringer right in the throat. When he fell, Anya bit the hand of the second bringer who had been covering her mouth.

"I'm not even a freaking Slayer in training, you stupid eyeless idiot!" she snapped, kicking him hard in the knee.

"Move, Anya," Giles commanded, his voice low and deadly.

"Right. Sorry." Anya stepped aside and Giles plunged the knife from his belt into the second Bringer's back. 

Anya glanced over at the lifeless form of the first one, then the next. "You… big jerks!" she spat at them. "You got his jacket all dirty! Giles, they got your jacket…"

He hugged her then, dropping the flashlight, hugged her fiercely to him with a strength that shocked them both.

"You're all right," he said, his cheek resting on her head. He felt her arms tighten around him.

He stepped back, searching her face and body for signs of injury. 

"I'm okay." Her eyes were bright, even in the moonlight, as she stared up at him. He touched her cheek.

"Let's get back to the campsite. The girls…" 

Anya was nodding, already turning and picking up the flashlight, all business. So strong and brave. Giles' heart pounded in his chest. Together they headed back through the trees. Quietly, Anya slipped her hand in his. He held it, squeezing tightly, not letting it go until they reached the girls' tent and saw that they were safe, not letting it go even as they woke them up to pack their things and head back to the car. It was not safe, especially out here, in the darkness of a desert where strange, strange things could happen.

And sometimes, perhaps, not so strange, Giles realized, his thumb caressing the skin of her hand, still holding it tightly as they watched the girls climb sleepily into the car.

***

"Giles?" she whispered sleepily as they drove toward home. She sat next to him in the front seat, squeezed right up next to him while one of the girls sat to her right and the others were crammed in the back. They were all asleep, or pretended to be. The sky was slowly turning a strange pink/gold, signaling sunrise.

"Yes?"

"I take it back, what I said, about you not being a hugger. You are a hugger... a really good one."

Her mouth was so close to his neck that he could feel the stir of her breath when she spoke, and it made him almost shiver.

"I'm going to sleep now," she whispered, then rested her head on his shoulder, snuggling as close to him as she could get. He turned his head toward her and allowed himself one small, lingering kiss on her forehead.

"Nice," she murmured sleepily. "More."

Giles grinned, his hands steady on the wheel, his heart suddenly feeling light as air. "All in good time."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Then she was asleep on his shoulder as he drove the rest of the way home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

It was close to closing time when Anya wandered back toward the training room where Buffy was working out alone. Anya leaned against the doorway. "Buffy? Tell me about Ripper."

Buffy pushed the mats against the wall of the training room and looked up. Anya tried to appear as casual as possible. 

"Um, sure… but why?" Buffy sat down on the mats to stretch. Anya shrugged.

"Well. It's fascinating, really. And having a dark side is something I, as an ex-vengeance demon, can relate to." Anya crossed her arms. "Plus there are no customers and I'm bored."

"Ah." Buffy grinned and patted the space next to her. Anya joined her on the floor and leaned against the wall, waiting for Buffy to begin.

"Let's see. The Mr. Hyde to Giles' Dr. Jekyll… or is that the other way around? Wait, who was the bad guy?"

"Unimportant. Please continue."

Buffy sighed. "Ripper is like that, the bad part of Giles. The id. The whole 'want, take, have' part of him. Total rebel without a cause. Basically, he was a crazy, magic-abusing delinquent before he overcompensated by becoming a tweed-wearin' librarian."

"Hmm. Interesting."

"Oh. And he had sex with my mom once… I mean, twice, as Ripper."

"No kidding!"

"Slayer's honor." Buffy made an X over her heart and held up her hand. "Why? Do you think maybe the whole Ripper thing has something to do with Giles being kind of, withdrawn, since he's been here? Has Giles done anything strange to you?"

Before her blush gave her away, Anya shrugged, then stood up when she heard the front bell. "Thanks, Buffy," she said, distracted, frowning as she left.

***

She should have known it was him. Since they'd arrived home yesterday from the desert they had not had a chance to talk, to be alone, to do anything. He was the default Watcher for all those pesky brats now, and he was busy. Understandably so. Which didn't help her confusion one bit. Had she dreamt that kiss on her forehead? Had he not really held her hand in the woods? Had she only imagined that the hug was so much more than a hug? Was it not Giles, not Ripper, someone else?

"Anya? Are you all right?" Giles said, frowning when he saw the pained expression on her face.

"Hello, Giles. _If_ that's your real name." She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.

"What? I… oh, hello, Buffy."

"Hello, non-evil Giles." Buffy entered the room and walked up to him, poking him heartily on the arm.

"Just checking," she said, grinning cheekily up at him.

"Very funny." Giles sighed and rubbed his arm where she had poked him. "And, ow. Your strength is better than ever, I see."

"Yep. Just got finished working out. How are things at the house?"

"Fine. Spike's back now."

Anya saw the color drain from Buffy's face. "Is he… is he okay?"

"Yes."

"I thought he'd be longer. They said it would take longer…"

Giles put a calming hand on her shoulder. "Well, as we know, Spike isn't the most patient of people. He… well, apparently checked himself out of the facility after getting the chip removed. Apparently he used rather… well, unorthodox means to escape."

"But he's okay?" Buffy demanded.

Anya wanted to smile, watching her. It really was kind of adorable.

When Giles nodded, Buffy nodded back, and then was gone, out the door faster than Anya could say, "Spike n' Buffy, sittin' in a tree…" Which she honestly wanted to do, except she forgot she was mad at Giles.

"I forgot I'm mad at you," Anya announced, going over to the front door and locking it, turning the Open sign to Closed and drawing the shade. 

"Anya…" Giles began, but she twirled around, fists clenched, and marched up to him.

"Who are you? That's what I want to know, mister. You've been acting strange ever since you came back here with those junior Slayers in tow." She poked him in the chest.

"I wish you would all stop poking me," Giles said. "And I'm Giles. I'm still Giles."

"But you've been acting so withdrawn since you came back. And that whole Ripper thing in the woods… he wasn't taking over somehow?"

"No."

"But you called me… you held my…" Anya, normally never at a loss for words, found herself looking down at her hands in confusion.

"That was me, Anya."

"It was?" she asked. There was a smile in his eyes as he watched her and nodded. Her smile of relief made him smile back.

"Was that also you who promised… in the car… that there would be… more?" she finally managed to squeeze out the words. They were standing only a foot or so apart but it felt far, far too wide of a breach for her. Her body hummed to life when he was nearby, and it took every ounce of her willpower not to go to him, touch him, curl up into him like she did on the car ride home.

"That was me, yes," he said quietly. The way he said that made her heart hammer in her chest.

"And… do you, Giles, think that 24 hours constitutes 'all in good time'?"

It was he who took the step toward her. His hand reached out to cup her face.

"God, you are lovely," he said. His eyes drifted to her lips, then back to her eyes, which were wide as saucers.

"Oh boy," Anya whispered.

And then there was a horrible rattling of the front door, somebody pounding. _Not now,_ she thought. _Please, not now._

"You better get that," he said, frowning down at her.

"It's probably not important," she whispered, leaning in to him.

"Anya! Open up! It's important!" They heard Willow's voice from outside. Anya sighed and looked up at Giles.

"Wasn't meant to be, I guess."  
"I wouldn't be too sure," Giles said, and kissed her, his hands on either side of her face as his lips met hers. She gasped in pleasure when his tongue slid in, tasting her. A lovely warmth spread through her, and then the kiss was over, far too quickly. He looked as shellshocked as she felt.

"Oh, _boy_," she whispered again.

"Indeed," Giles said, caressing her lower lip with his thumb. Then he gestured toward the door. "Go."

Anya ran, her hand covering her mouth, covering her huge smile as she opened the door to Willow.

"Didn't you hear me knocking out there?" Willow said, breathless. She looked first at Anya, then at Giles. "Are you guys okay? You look funny."

"We're fine. What's wrong?" Giles said, after he cleared his throat.

"Nothing, I just need some supplies."

"You said it was important!" Anya almost shouted, hands on hips.

"Well, I figured you wouldn't let me in if I didn't say that," Willow said, her eyes guilty. "I'm sorry. Don't be mad."

"I am mad! Very, very mad. Giles, you better walk me home or there's no telling what I might do!" Anya said. She stomped her foot as an afterthought.

"Yes." Giles perked up. "Yes, you're right. Eh, Willow, turn the lights off when you're done." 

Willow just stared at them in confusion as they hurried out of the store, Giles' hand on Anya's back.

When they were a block away Anya turned to him. "Was the whole stomping of the foot thing overkill?" she said.

"Who bloody cares?" he responded, pressing her against a wall as he kissed her again. 

The first time they kissed, long ago, when she thought they were engaged, it felt wonderful but strange, as if something was off. Sexy as hell, but not right, almost like a trick. Now, there was no spell, no magic, just Giles, this beautiful man whom she'd had a crush on… a crush? No. More than a crush. Something had been there, always under the surface, and when she thought he was dying that day long ago while they lay in the rubble of the Magic Shop she thought a part of her was dying too. And now, this crazy dream was coming true and she wanted more, wanted to never wake up. Her hands were on his hips, pulling him hard against her. Giles broke the kiss, only to move his lips slowly along her jawline. She arched against him, tilting her head back to let his lips roam her throat. She gripped his arms to keep herself from falling.

"You literally just made me knees weak," she said, the words coming out in a gasp. In reply he kissed her mouth again, tasting her, exploring her mouth with his own. 

"Put your hands on me," she whispered when he broke off the kiss. Giles stared down at her, his breathing ragged, matching hers. A group of people passed by, teenagers from the looks of it, and after they passed one of them called back, "Get a room!" followed by laughter. Giles and Anya looked around, suddenly realizing they were outside, on the street, leaning up against a storefront at dinnertime. Broad daylight. They looked at each other and smiled.

"On second thought," she said, "take me home first, _then put your hands on me."_

Giles nodded. "Excellent idea." He took her hand in his as she led the way.

TBC


End file.
